Homecoming

28th April, '09

Familiar streets, warm with knowing,
my memories infinite, secret;
my womb of struggling years,
my confidante ethereal.
Buried with stories at each curve,
buried with the knowledge of my being,
fragrant, elusive, yesterdays,
the delusive and the real.
I wait to be one with you again,
I wait for the reunion of our spirits once more,
I wait to be under your watch again,
My chaperon of unseen dreams.

Reminiscing

27th April, '09

Sunlight caught in the cobwebs of time,
shimmering, dazzling,
catches my eye,
forming infinite untraceable patterns,
lost in the infiniteness of eternity.
But somewhere suddenly,
a chord is struck,
a memory awakened,
a sliver of silver salvaged,
and history,
clear as a pool,
heavy as dew,
floats into my palms again.

Forgiveness

25th April, '09

A searing hole burning through crystal pools,
the heat of it traversing each droplet within,
deeper and deeper till it finds home,
till eventually one turns to stone,
the mind is filled with cackling din,
and insanity is all that rules.

Reason is not in sight anymore,
wrapped up in the hatred of prejudice,
coils and coils of sticky thought,
large swirling pools with presumption fraught,
I blink to see the ghastly edifice,
towering at my mind's door.

There's a snap and a clink, a tear and a blink,
and clouds start clearing one at a time,
the edifice is disappearing each minute,
crumbling into nothing bit by bit,
trickles of water clearing up the slime,
the mind stretches and begins to think.

Slowly creeps in a ray of light,
the load is less heavy, the shackles break free,
the passages are cleared to move ahead again,
there's space for two once more in this den,
a song breaks through all the cacophony,
and two minds move to a new height.

Flying in a Gas Balloon

Flying in a gas balloon-

At first, there was freshness,
of the whistling spring gale,
with it came beauty,
in the miniscule details.
The fluttering in the stomach,
of a million butterflies,
the cosiness of a shell,
the vastness of the skies,
The hope of things to come,
the confidence in the flight,
Dreams and togetherness,
the only things in sight.

Then the blurring of senses,
the timelessness of time,
the weight of extra baggage,
interfering with the climb.
Shoulders brush in discomfort,
space not enough any more,
what used to keep me cosy,
is now leaving me sore.
We threw the dreams over,
to make space for life,
Where passion overflowed once,
reason is now rife.

The gas balloon takes me higher each day,
for I know what to keep and what to throw.

Images of Fate

21st April, '09

The words have been squeezed out of my tiny, little fate,
expression has left me in the lurch again,
It's only pain, pain and more pain,
that are colouring the walls of time once more.

An ice dome with icicles, shooting upwards like trees,
sticky, slippery cauldrons of gurgling time,
a body almost formed, floating face downwards,
hands stretched out towards the greenish slime.

A war field, with scorched, black trees,
plastered with the skin of a countless men,
roots uprooted, heads in the ground,
fingers scattered, a million times ten.

Purplish grey skies, with muddy contours,
dripping down to earth with the sarcasm of the Gods,
poetry sits waiting in a runny, black hole,
around it sits pain in self-righteous clods.

Circles

19th April, '09

My mind is moving in circles,
circles of thought, circles of din,
circles definitely closing me in.

Safety and comfort, words of the world,
round and round in circles I am whirled.

Practical is good, practical is real,
practical is all you should feel.
Well, I don't want practical anymore,
I just want my wings, unfurled.

I prefer semi-(circle)s, with open doors,
circles that are not, circles any more,
I prefer a life that which is me,
to a life that is dripping with ease.

I threw all the circles,
into the wind,
They turned into balloons,
and I grinned.

The Monsoon Has Begun

18th April, '09

I got drenched in the rain tonight.
My every pore soaked in water,
until water was part of my every pore.
I sang, I danced, I screamed aloud,
for no one watched me but the unjudging skies.
I filled myself with the joy of the monsoon,
the scent of the freshness of the wet, soggy mud,
the close familiarity of the heavy, lazy skies,
the overpowering sound of the rain on my roof,
pouring down to the rhythm of my unrestrained dance.

I melted into the droplets of the rain,
and trickled onto the chocolatey earth.
I delved deeper and deeper,
the particles of mud,
finding space in my each pore,
until I was them and they were me,
wet, rain-drenched, mud-covered, entities,
completely one with both the skies and the earth.